The Diego Diaries: Playah (dd6 222)
-0-At a clinic for a check up
He sat on the med berth with plugs galore in his small frame. He was getting his scheduled check up, one that was required when fighting off situational dementia. Sitting nearby watching closely, Chan waited for the word on Corr. They were seeing a geriatric specialist, one who was expert at this very syndrome. Watching closely as well, Partition stood beside Corr. "This is looking good, Corr. Your levels of processor fluids, the ones that regulate cognition are at optimal. I think that we can consider you at the peak. What I would like to have you do is come in again in 15 decaorns for another review. Right now, I have to say that you look like a solid recovery," the doctor said.
Partition looked at the data, then Corr. "You're good to go then, Amma," he said.
Corr who sat between them patiently smiled. "I hope so. I do feel really well lately, Dr. Medley. Thank you for your kindness. I was not myself from time to time."
"It happens, Corr. That's why we're here. You come or call when you think you need to see me. I would be very unhappy and sad if you didn't. I love to take care of our elders," Medley said. He was a very kindly doctor with a manner for elders that was reassuring and sweet.
Corr smiled. "Thank you. Sonny will be very happy to hear that I'm better. He worries so and he has so many things to do. My Sonny is a doctor, too."
Medley grinned as he pulled the last plug. "Ratchet is a great doctor and a hoot. He's a fun guy to work for."
Corr stepped down, then turned to look up at Medley. "We always told our grandson to be a good mech and help others. He's such a good doctor. It was hard to get him to that point. You know about The System, right?"
"I never lived on Cybertron but my family told me about it," Medley said.
"It was very terrible. My Sonny had a hard time getting into medical school but he was so great that they let him in," Corr said as Chan rose and walked to him.
"They let him in because he was good," Chan said as he patted Corr. He looked at Medley. "When Ratchet graduated, they wouldn't let us go to the ceremony to watch it. He was first in his class and graduated with honors. He made the highest scores ever recorded in the school but he had to graduate alone. We stood outside waiting for him, Our Sonny. We were so proud but it was hard." He bowed to Medley, then turned to a pensive looking Partition. "This youngling here is like our grandson, too. He wants to be an elder doctor. Right now, Partition is a Home Guardsman and a field medic. Isn't that wonderful?" Chan smiled proudly at Partition who grinned back at him.
"Elder medicine is a great career. The more, the better," Medley said with a grin.
"What do we need to do for Corr now, Doctor Medley?" Partition asked.
"Just continue what he's doing and see his script doctor when I send the report. One to Ratchet and one to Doctor Haley in Scripts and Prescriptions at Out Patient on the eighteenth floor. They will be changing his medications and we plan to taper them off so he's free of them at some point but it must be gradual."
Partition nodded, then looked at the sweet pair. "Shall we go, Amma and Appa?"
"I think a treat is in order, Chan," Corr said as he patted Medley. "Come with us, Partition. We can talk about your plans to be a doctor. We helped Ratchet get there. We will help you, too," Corr said as he walked to the door. They made their goodbyes, then walked to the elevator for the trip to the eighteenth floor.
Partition looked at both of them as they reached the elevator. "They didn't let you go to Ratchet's graduation?"
"No, son," Chan said as Corr nodded. "We were low caste."
Partition felt a flash of shame for a moment. He looked at them with a solemn expression. "There's nothing low caste about either of you," he said as the elevator doors closed on the three of them.
-0-Ops Center
Ratchet stood next to Ironhide as they looked at the incoming intel. The four groups were together in the same place now having a meet up. They had a large group and were centered in an area where any number of locations could suffice for their needs if they decided to join up. Whether they would was hard to say. Most times, Decepticons were so territorial about their groups and power that giving it up to anyone else without a fight was impossible. But these were new times and anything could and did happen. As it was now, they were closer to Fort Recluse than anywhere else in Prime's arsenal. Fort Apache was farther out and they were exactly halfway to Razorclaw and the solar well of the Sol System. What they would do as an independent force would be simple. They would be an easier group to join if others wanted than to make the trek to Razorclaw. Either way, they would be a pain in the ass.
The plan to snag Razorclaw was underway and they were waiting for him to come here. Prime had gone to the conference room nearby to wait for him. Rampage had come as well as Scar and Nitro.
"They've been there a while," Alor said as he studied the data in his hand. It was updating on the datapad as they stood together watching in real time. None of it looked good. The configuration of the battle groups were for extended journeys and brutal conflict. They could not be allowed to go to Razorclaw and it appeared that they were going to hang around. They were slowly moving through the maze of slag out there looking for a place to dig in. Another barnacle on the side of the Empire.
It was quiet as they watched the data sent to them by Seekers accompanied by Wrecker shuttles.
-0-Autobot City Performing Arts Center, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars, Cybertron and the Empire
Trooper stood in the loges listening to the singing on stage. The State Orchestra of Mars as the musical accompaniment was called filled the orchestra pit, playing beautifully as a number of singers worked out their songs for upcoming plays. He was directing one of them and was getting a feel of the acoustics of the theater from the singers. The music was Scout's, the play was his and the actors were those from the colony and his troop, both professionals from Cybertron, one from Earth and others locally from the growing talent pool that was burgeoning here.
This play was about humans and bots living together and the amusing bits that would arise from such a venture. It was a comedy play with singing bits. The actor was one from The Bridge who lived here now at Earth2 and worked on the series approaching its third season finale cliff hanger.
"What do you think, Troop?" Scout asked as he walked from the steps to the middle of the loges where he stood.
"This place has amazing acoustics. I think we have to boost the volume on Gemini's mike. Her voice is strong but thin, do you know?" Trooper asked.
Scout nodded. "That's the problem of being a small organism, that little human. I have to say, though, that she's hilarious. She's not known for it on Earth, by the way."
Trooper looked at Scout with surprise. "Really?"
Scout nodded. "Truly. This is going to be a fun presentation."
Trooper nodded. "I think we all need to laugh, Scout."
They stood together troubleshooting the singers, then had them sing again, this time with Gemini's mike turned up. It made a world of difference.
-0-Cybertron
Keystock sat on a rock waiting for Hardie to finish getting the lowdown on the security of a camp the size of which he had never seen before. It was the home base of over two million Cybertronians. It could be seen flowing out to the horizon and beyond, a sea of lights and the dark shapes of tents. It was an astonishing achievement bringing this many in from the cold. Everywhere they went, the vision of towers and those rising was evident. It was going fast, he was told, but for him, it wouldn't be fast enough. Living in the tents would be the Pit.
Hard Drive walked toward him. "Let's go," he said as he continued onward. His entourage followed, a collection of senior officers with various delegated assignments, several junior officers whose sole function was to record both what was said and asked for and take images as well. Everywhere they went, the officers who were with the General recorded things for the Prime. Everywhere they went, messages were handed to him from everyone around, officials, civilians, former soldiers, and anyone else who wanted something brought to the attention of Prime. Having gone back with Hardie, he had seen that the General made sure that the notes were given to Prime. He wondered what they said.
Trudging along with a backpack that seemed even heavier than usual, which unbeknownst to him it was, they made their way along the track to the clearing where the shuttle was. Climbing on board, they lifted off to fly into the darkness once more. As they did, he could hear over the ship's radio updates on the situation not so far away of four battle groups deciding what they were going to do.
-0-Out there
They had hashed it out, the pros and cons of going to Razorclaw or staying here to make a kingdom of their own. None of them were unknown to each other and oddly enough, they were of one mind. Being the king of your own fiefdom was preferable to being a serf in someone elses. The only thing to sort out was who would be boss hog. Two of them were smart enough to decide patience was a virtue, thus deferring to the others. Two weren't but the situation was reasoned out given the possible mayhem that would result in the battle for top dog. Ominous would be leader and Liko would be his sub commander. Liko was brutal, a ship boarding killer and had pirated since leaving the 'Cons. He was smart enough and oddly enough, patient for a killer. Ominous was his equal and not having the best medical care possible, it was a zero sum game fighting him. No one could be king if they were both broken or dead. He would wait for his chance to advance after all the hard work of digging in was over.
Treachery was the Decepticon way.
They gathered up and began to search for a base as at the same time they monitored the Autobots nearby who were monitoring them.
-0-Airfield in Autobot City
He stood radiating aggression as he was surrounded by Autobots and their guns, a massive seething mechanism with intelligent optics and a highly functioning processor. The array of artillery pointing at him precluded a stupid move and even though he loved to inflict mayhem and battle, he wasn't known to be stupid. That, of course, had its up and down sides. He wasn't going to be Dinobot berserk but he wasn't someone who could be easily fooled. He was the brains of the most perfect combiner ever constructed. That could never be underestimated.
Prowl and Paragon stared at him. "Follow us. You will be in the gun sights of everyone between here and where we're going. Make a move for any reason and you will never see another orn," Prowl said.
Razorclaw stared at him, then Paragon. "You're brothers, right? What a fragging great combiner you two would make," he said as he grinned at them, a grin devoid of mirth. He moved forward walking between them as they headed across a cleared airfield for The Fortress. It was night now, dark with lights casting pools on the ground all the way to the brightly lit fort. The city beyond was beautiful, its towers lit with the lights of family life. The air was cold but filled with energy, the energy of nearly 24,000,000 individuals working and building their futures together. It had a sense of brilliance that had been missing for eons for The People.
They walked through the courtyard and entered the building. The rec room was empty but there were guards with guns standing in the doorway of the Ops Center. Prowl and Paragon led the way and he followed, his optics roaming around the vast space, itself in muted light for night shift. The consoles were well lit and the activity brisk. He followed them to the conference door, then entered. Inside, there were guards with guns around the room. Rampage, Nitro, Scar, and Optimus Prime sat at one end of the big table. They stared at each other a moment, then Prowl gestured to a chair. "Sit, Razorclaw."
He stared at Prowl, then the others. "Sure," he said with a slight grin. He sat, it was silent, then he leaned forward on the table with his elbows. "Hello, brother. How's it going?"
Rampage stared at him, then opened his carry hold. He pulled out his son, then sat him on the table. "I thought you might want to see him before he graduated from University."
The baby looked at his father, a slight look of angst forming on his face as he felt his atar's energy storm. He looked around the table, then rose. Walking to his father, he reached for him. Rampage picked him up and hugged him. "You want me to come, Razorclaw. You want me to give up my life, my family and my self respect to destroy things with you. I don't think you get it. Look at this kid. He's mine. My family, my bond … my life here … it's what's real. Its the only thing that is. I will never go back to the old ways. That life is dead to me," he said.
They stared at each other. Razorclaw sat back, his gaze on the child. "Cute kid. You do know that when Megatron comes back he will level this place and your kid won't have any more luck than anyone else."
"When that fragger, that coward comes back, I will be there with my guns. No matter what happens, he will never rule me again. Not him, not you, not anyone. This kid gets my best. My family gets it all," Rampage said as he slid his fussing son into his hold. Rising, he leaned forward and placed his palms flat on the table. "What the frag are you that my son means nothing to you?"
Razorclaw stared at him. Then he looked at Prime. "Can I go now or do you want to lock me up?"
It was leaden in the room. "I want you to go back to your fort and stay there. I will not allow anyone to cross my territory to join you. The groups you went to see will be destroyed if they so much as blink my direction. I am the Prime of Cybertron, the First Disciple of Primus and I have an oath to protect and defend everyone, from that baby to the oldest elder. If you think you will prevent that from happening, then you are a very great fool. I have spoken, Razorclaw, and I do not intend to have to say it again."
Razorclaw considered that, then nodded. "Very well. New rules," he said. "May I go now?" He smirked slightly at Prime but there was murder in his optics.
"You are dismissed," Prime said coldly.
Razorclaw chuckled a moment, then glanced at his brother. "That's a really cute kid, Rampage. I'm glad for you. But this means that the ties are cut. Too bad. We were great once," he said, then with guns and guards, he walked out the door to the bridge room. He would have to give coordinates for his fortress or risk ending up floating in space.
It was not a good orn for Razorclaw.
Oddly enough, it was a very, very liberating one for Rampage. He sat with everyone for a bit as they talked about the ramifications of this moment and admired the sweet baby that stood on his father's lap watching everyone and everything in the room.
-0-Out there
They found a nice place to dig in, one with a lot of broken stones ready to be easily built into a stone fortress. Standing on debris and their shuttles near enough to see them through long range sensors, a number of Autobots and Seekers took locations and images for their files.
-0-At Camp Terror, out there
Razorclaw walked out of the bridge into the airfield of his fort, then halted to glance around. As he did, he clenched his fists and bellowed into the howling wind his infuriated thwarted rage.
-0-TBC 12-18-17 edited 1-4-18
cognition (cog-nish-uhn): the ability to think and reason
loges (low-jus): the seating in the back that is above the floor seating, sort of a balcony in the back
serf: a near slave who worked the land for someone with little paybacks (a term for the working poor during medieval times)
fiefdom (feef-dum): a kingdom for a petty ruler